Dinner was great, as it often is when you're sitting in an absurdly large rental house in the mountains and the food has been delivered to you up a long and winding road that only the local Japanese place knew how to negotiate. We were smart enough to bring wine up here over the weekend, and a little dessert too, fresh strawberries from a roadside stand. The whipped cream we just plain got lucky on---it was in the refrigerator when we got here to spend the weekend.
Tomorrow, it'll be canoeing along the little winding streams that surround the house, but tonight, it's some good food and relaxing after the drive to get here and an afternoon of doing little more than lazing on the back lawn, which rolls right up to a peaceful little lake. There was an hour in the hammock, of which half is only remembered, as the other half saw us both zonked out peacefully, and a full hour of letting our feet dangle in the calm water off the edge of the tiny pier that is technically ours for the next forty-eight hours. Much too sophisticated to perform such a menial task as making dinner, we both changed into even lighter clothes than the day began with and greeted the dusk with our delivered meal. Since then we've been exchanging stories and not-terribly-important observations about this and that under the gaudy chandelier than lords over the long dining room table.
"Now, the reason we don't live like this all the time is why?" you ask me, staring at me with mock accusation across the table.
"Oh, don't worry," I assure you. "I have certain investments that should pay off soon. All we need is for America to start just two more wars in the next six weeks or so."
"I see," you say.
"You never look better than when you're sitting under a chandelier, have I told you that?" I inquire.
"Mmmm, you did, just two minutes ago. Right after I told you that you never look better than when you lose one of your shoes in the lake dangling it off the dock like a little kid."
"I intend to get that shoe back someday, I really do," I say. Little do you suspect that I wasn't joking around when I complimented the way you look tonight, here at the table. I don't recall ever seeing your eyes quite as bright or your hair looking so soft.
"Let's go out onto the deck," you suggest to me, thankfully ignoring all issues of clearing away the plates, takeout cartons, and empty glass cups which contained our strawberries. It occurs to us that we haven't even been out on the deck yet to see the view.
I follow you out onto it. It's going on nine-thirty and there's mostly just the sound of crickets. We walk across the overly spacious "tanning area" and stand near the railing, looking out over the back yard. We also get a lovely view of the lake and, far in the distance, the sleepily winking eye of a lighthouse on the cape which we'll be visiting sometime tomorrow. The only other house in sight is visible only by the lampglow in one window several hundred yards away. We are truly secluded. I put an arm around your shoulders and kiss you warmly on the cheek. The stars are out in full, untainted by the glow of city lights for eighty miles.
"Mmmmmmm, I'm tired," you say, leaning your head against my chest. We very slowly rock back and forth. It's too much effort to stand straight.
"I don't see any yawns yet," I say, kissing you on the top of the head.
"Lilli doesn't yawn, it's beneath her," you reply. You wrap your arms around my waist, look up at me, and give me a quick smooch on the lips. The taste of the wine we shared greets me again.
I run a hand through your hair, guiding a few stray strands from your eyes which had settled over them due to the slight, perfect breeze. "I believe I have just the thing to make you sleep soundly," I say. "Do everything I instruct and you'll slip into a very nice dream and not wake till morning."
"Okay....as long as it doesn't involve any jogging or kayaking. That'd be a little much for me in my state."
"There might be just a little kayaking, actually, but it'll be quick. Are you ready to do everything I say?"
You wrap your arms around me a little tighter. "Mmmmm, yes."
"Good. First of all, I want you to stay out here and enjoy the view for another few minutes while I prepare to guide you off to sleep. Get a nice look at the lighthouse, because you won't be seeing a lot of light for the rest of the night. Time to rest your eyes, sweetie. I'll come back for you, okay?"
You smile, not having an inkling of what I've planned. "Be glad to," you agree, and kiss me firmly on the mouth while giving me a gentle, affectionate scratch on the chest with your fingernails.
I run a finger down your bare arm and leave you. You stay just where I want you to. You turn back to take in the evening. Another breeze sighs in from the lake, sifting through your hair. You're definitely tired but now you're looking forward to not quite going to bed on time after all. You've just about forgotten every obligation that accompanied you out here, and it wouldn't take much to banish all thoughts of them forever.
The feeling of such isolation combined with the now-continuous summer breeze makes you aware of how nicely in tune your body is with the surroundings. Everything here is natural, right down to the wood this big house was built from, and you have a wonderful sense of being part of all the nature that surrounds you. There's no reason for you not to be completely comfortable every moment while we're out here; there are no rules, no expectations, and you kick off your sandals to feel the cool wood beneath your feet.
You imagine how nice the breeze would be on your entire body and lift off your T-shirt and shake your hair, running your hands through it before placing them back on the railing of the deck. The breeze whispers across your bare shoulders, your lower back, and your cleavage, held in sweet shape by your red bra. You've worn a pair of jean cutoffs on the trip here and now you unbutton them, unzip them, and push them down silently, until you are down to your panties and bra. Now you feel just like you want to. Whatever little bit of stress remained from your long week is gone now. All you need is another glass of wine, but the atmosphere of the deck and my instruction holds you. You feel beautiful, standing here, your body exposed to the night and nothing else.
"Ready to obey me?" my voice says behind you. You turn and see me standing just inside the open screen door, in the dark. I've turned out almost all the lights in the house and I've reached a hand out to take you in. Leaving your cutoffs and your shirt on the deck----who's going to take them?---you walk towards me, and reach your hand out to become clasped in mine. You're grinning from ear to ear when you cross the threshold and enter the dark dining room.
"Wow, I hope you're going to be a good guide," you say as I turn to lead you away from the deck, closing the screen door.
"Just follow my every step," I say, and, holding your hand like a high school sweetheart on a first date, I begin to cross the kitchen and head toward the spacious, over-decorated bathroom. "I like what you've decided to wear, by the way."
"I thought you would," you say. "Too bad you can't get such a good look in the dark." The entire place has been dowsed, you notice. There's not a hint of light anywhere. We're nothing more than shadows among shadows.
"I've memorized every curve on your body," I reply, walking slowly, in absolutely no hurry. "I can feel them all touching me anytime I imagine it."
"Excellent," you purr, and become aware of the small sound of cascading water up ahead. There's a tiny glow emanating from the bathroom, the extra large one with the gigantic clawfoot tub. When we enter, you see that it's lit by a single candle on the edge of that bathtub. It gives off the dimmest of auras, not even enough to see all the way across the room by. Everything in it seems to be tinged by a soft color like gold.
It's as if we've stepped back in time. And the quiet itself is quite striking. It makes you realize how busy the night outside really was, with its crickets, breezes, and sounds of the water lapping against our dock. In here, there's only a dreamy hush. Behind the shower curtain the water has been turned on, and already the room is filling with a hint of steam and warmth.